


Color and Code

by passthenotebook



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passthenotebook/pseuds/passthenotebook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows about the marks, the little symbols of their soulmate everyone feels compelled to have with them at all times. Kids draw them on every scrap of paper they can get, adults get them tattooed or as jewelry or whatever other method they like. Everyone knows about them, and how they work. But the rules are not as simple as everyone makes them out to be…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve

Steve hated being sick.

He was sick a lot, more times than he could count, but it was still one of the worst things in the whole world. Even if he was only six and his ma said he didn’t know about all bad things yet, he was sure of that much. But, being sick as often as he was, he had found ways of coping. He listened to the radio a lot, there was almost always a good show on, and in his room he had his little collection of crayons, colored pencils, and anything else they could get for him to draw with. Steve liked to draw a lot, especially pictures for his mother. It definitely made being sick and stuck inside bearable, and when he was done his mother would make a big fuss and pin them up on the wall. He always felt puffed up with pride whenever his mother did that, or whenever he looked at the walls of their apartment, cluttered with pages of things he’d seen or heard or imagined.

Lately, though, he hadn’t been drawing anything for his mother. He kept drawing the same thing over and over, trying to get it right…he’d tried drawing this as long as he could remember, but lately it was all he could think about. He’d drawn them so much, he knew exactly how to do it perfectly every time. Big star, six big points with smaller points between each, circle and rings forming a planet in the center…

At least his ma didn’t mind. She’d told him to never ignore the prompting to draw, and even his teacher at school gave him extra paper to draw on when he needed it. Everyone knew about the marks, the little things everyone wanted to have with them all the time, and everyone understood that kids like him just needed to draw their mark until they got it right.

His ma had explained it to him once, when he’d asked about hers. Told him all about how it was the mark of a soul mate, the person (or people, some people had more than one) who you were perfectly matched to, that fit together with you like pieces of a puzzle. Sometimes, that was a friend, other times it was love, but it was always big. The most important relationship of your life, his ma had said.

Steve’s tongue caught between his teeth as he made his latest attempt, poking out slightly between his lips as his hand moved very slowly over the white of the paper, the pencil creating a smooth, dark line. He was so close this time. As many times as he’d drawn this, as perfect as he got the shape, it never felt quite right. And he needed it to be perfect…needed it, or he’d probably be going without sleep again and his ma would get mad at him.

Steve was so engrossed in the drawing, and what it meant, that he didn’t even hear it when his window slid open and Bucky climbed into his room, only noticing when his boots hit the floor with a low thump.

“Hey punk, whatcha doin?”

“Oh hey, Buck. ’M drawing…”

“Well stop drawing and come play! We’re gonna have a baseball game!”

Steve made a face and looked up at his best friend. “I can’t. Ma says that if I go outside I’ll get more sick because of the pollen and-”

“Your allergies. Yeah, I gotcha,” Bucky nodded, taking a seat on the bed.

“You should go or you’ll be late for the game,” Steve said absently as he coughed into his upper arm.

“Nah. Who wants to play baseball, anyway? I’m good right here with my best bud.”

Steve smiled faintly at that and went back to his drawing, shaking his head. “Come on, Buck. Not today. I’ve almost got it this time…”

“What have you ‘almost got’?” Bucky asked as he slid off the bed to kneel next to Steve, trying to get a glimpse of what Steve was drawing.

“My mark. At least I’m pretty sure it is…Ma thinks so. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get it right for ages but I keep messing it up. I can’t tell the colors apart well enough to pick the right ones, and everything I try feels wrong…and I have to get it right this time, Bucky. I have to.”

"Well, what color is it supposed to be?” Bucky frowned at him.

“Oh, I do it different every time. I think I want purple in it this time…”

“Then why’s it even matter?” he asked, then flinched as Steve gave him the ‘are you an idiot?’ look, grinning sheepishly as he spoke quickly, “Oh, the color! It totally matters! You’re so right! How could I ever forget the importance of…colors?”

Steve actually laughed at that and shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it, punk?” Bucky grinned at him.

“Make you help me pick out colors?” Steve suggested, grinning at him.

“Yeah, alright. Better than baseball, anyway…” Bucky grinned as he settled down to pick through the crayon stubs.

It took ages, both of them bent over Steve’s little crayon pile looking for the right colors, but it was fun too, and when the drawing was finally finished Steve felt happy with it for the first time. It was beautiful. And perfect. And so many more things that he couldn’t even think of them all. “We…did really good. It’s… Perfect.”

“It’s pretty cool, as far as soul mate marks go,” Bucky admitted, grinning, “Looks kinda like something that’d be in the magazines I like. You know, the sci-fi ones? Maybe this is your mark for me…” He laughed, nudging Steve with his elbow teasingly.  
“Yeah…maybe…” Steve said distractedly, “Don’t know who else it could be…”

“Let’s hang it up. It’s too cool not to, and we worked real hard on it,” Bucky grinned at him as he stood up and grabbed a thumb tack from a box on a shelf and quickly pegged the paper to the wall, balancing precariously on a chair to get it high enough.

“Have you started drawing yet?” Steve asked, tipping his head to the side as he watched, “I mean…do you have a mark yet?”

“Nah,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he climbed back down with a thump, “At least I don’t think I do. I keep drawing these weird shields all over the place, but I don’t think it’s a mark.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno…they just never look the same twice, ever,” Bucky said, shaking his head and shrugging, “Maybe I’m just not soul mate material.”

“Well, I don’t know, I like changing the colors on mine…” Steve mused with a shrug, “And I didn’t think any of them were right until now…maybe just keep trying? I’m sure it’ll be perfect eventually…”

He smiled brightly, though he frowned when he saw the irritated look on Bucky’s face. “What?”

“I’m not gonna get a mark, okay? I’m just not good at drawing, and how can you get a mark to look right when you suck?”

“You don’t suck! You have awesome ideas!” Steve exclaimed a little squeakily in his defense, "I mean…I guess you’re not really that good at drawing, but you still- Maybe I could just help you?”

Bucky, who’d been scowling more and more through Steve’s fumbling attempt to make him feel better, seemed to perk up a bit at that. “You mean it? Really?”

“Of course I do! You’re my best friend, Buck,” Steve said with an even brighter smile than before, holding out a pencil to him, “Come on. You helped me, now I’ll help you.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay.”

They drew well into the night, not paying any attention to the hours passing as they sat there, absorbed in their work. They even managed to come up with a few Bucky liked enough to want to take home, carefully set aside from the pile of other attempts.

“You’re pretty good at drawing, Steve…” he mumbled sleepily as they laid in the pile of drawings they’d made together, “These are all…pretty awesome…”

“Thanks Bucky…” Steve whispered, his eyes already closed, as sleep finally overtook him.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky had always been with him, it seemed. Bucky was there to pick him up after he’d gotten himself into trouble, when he needed a hand with his homework, when he’d pushed himself too hard and was about ready to keel over. Not to mention all the times they stayed together just because they’d fallen asleep talking until dawn at each other’s houses. From the moment they’d met, they’d fit together perfectly, always by each other’s side.

The significance of their bond wasn’t lost on Steve. Bucky was a soulmate, the best friend he’d ever had, practically a brother. Their relationship was as close as he’d been told from childhood. But the thing was Bucky wasn’t just a person he had a mark for, he was the only person he had a mark for. And the older he got, the more he realized just how unusual that was. People didn’t get just platonic marks, not if they wanted a relationship, and Steve did. Yet the only mark he had was Bucky.

He started to wonder, as the years went by, if that meant something. It didn’t feel like it…friendship, sure, the closest friend he ever had, but romance? He wasn’t as sure about that…and Bucky dated practically everything that walked past him in a skirt. Not that Steve had ever had a problem with that, his friend was attractive, and usually extremely single. It was a natural thing for women to flock to things that were available, and Bucky did seem to love the attention. But he’d never seen Bucky so much as glance in a man’s direction, and surely if there was something between them, Bucky wouldn’t chase girls so much. Right?

“Maybe it’s just because you haven’t said anything, though. He’d have to hide it, it’d make sense…” Steve muttered to himself as he sat alone in the secluded corner of a small café, waiting for his friend to arrive. Steve had finally managed to pluck up the courage to invite Bucky out to talk things over. It’d been awhile since they’d been able to just spend a day together, anyway. He was looking forward to it. A little. Under all the massive fear and dread over what he was about to do.

Steve may have, over the years of overanalyzing their relationship, developed a small crush on his best friend. Just a small one, but a small one that was steadily gaining mental momentum, growing at an alarming rate. He’d crash soon, probably after this conversation if he was honest with himself, but…it needed to happen. He needed to face reality, whatever that meant, before this got too big. He knew that, but that didn’t mean that he was entirely prepared for what he was about to do.

“Just tell him, Steve,” he said to himself, taking a deep breath, “It’s just Bucky. He won’t let this ruin anything between you, even if he doesn’t feel how you feel-”

“Who doesn’t feel how you feel?” Bucky asked as he slid into the booth across from him and gave him the usual cheeky grin, “Do I need to kick someone’s ass again?”

“Ah! Bucky!” Steve gasped out, jumping in surprise and going bright red, "Uh…no. No, it’s fine. Hi. You’re…early…“

"Yeah. My appointment ended early so I figured I’d come and wait, but you’re already here,” he chuckled softly, “So…why the sudden, super important lunch date? Not that I mind, but it’s a little weird…”

“Oh, uh…no reason,” Steve said, looking down at his menu so he didn’t have to look Bucky in the eyes, “Nothing important, anyway. I just…I kind of have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Alright, go ahead,” he nodded, grinning flirtatiously up at the waitress who had suddenly flounced over to them, “Hello Victoria. Lovely to see you again.”

“Bucky. Steve,” she replied, smiling brightly right back, “You want your usuals?”

“Always know me so well. Thanks doll,” he said with a little wink, handing her both the menus, frowning as she left (and he stopped glancing at her lovely backside) and he caught Steve staring at the table, “Steve? You alright there, buddy?”

“Huh? Oh, right! Yeah…” Steve said quickly, finally clearing his throat, “I was just…I was thinking the other day, right? About how weird it is that you and I only have the one mark. For each other.”

Bucky blinked, then shrugged. “Yeah, guess so…but we’re still young, right? Maybe our soulmates just haven’t been born yet.”

“Yeah…” he agreed softly, giving Bucky a brief half-smile and trying to keep his confidence. This was definitely harder than he’d expected it to be, but he needed to do it, even if he kept avoiding Bucky’s eyes like they were the Black Plague. “But I mean…that’s not the only explanation, is it? We are getting kind of old for that…”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Bucky admitted thoughtfully, “But that’s the only thing I can think of. Why? What were you thinking that it was?”

“Well…” Steve started slowly, shrugging and getting a bit flustered, but pushing through anyway. “I mean…have you ever thought maybe…we…?” He trailed off, swallowing hard as he finally looked Bucky in the eyes, willing him to understand.

“Maybe we what?” Bucky asked blankly, frowning at Steve for a moment before realization slowly dawned on his face, “We…as in us? Soulmates? I mean, not just platonic ones…”

Steve nodded quickly, his throat so tight with nervousness that he couldn’t utter a word.

“Steve, that's…we’re just friends…”

“But neither of us have marks for anyone else!” Steve said, his voice getting a little frantic as he tried to explain, “We both have marks for each other, and no one else, and we both want romantic soulmates…so…so I mean…logically we-”

“Steve, breathe,” Bucky said gently, giving him a small, if a little awkward, smile and patting his arm in an attempt at comfort, “Look, that…makes a lot of sense, sure, but…neither of us is…you know. Like that.”

Steve couldn’t keep the immediate disappointment off his face as he slumped a little in his chair, and Bucky caught to look before he could cover it up.

“Oh…” he said, staring at Steve and looking a little shocked for a moment, making Steve’s stomach churn with sudden terror until Bucky’s face softened, “That’s…sweet, Steve, seriously, I’m flattered, but I don’t…I really don’t see you like that…”

“I know! I know but…but maybe we just have to try,” Steve said a little desperately, almost pleading, “And that’s why we don’t feel it, because we never tried or even thought about it. So maybe if we just give it a shot, it’ll work out? I mean, no one can ever really explain how it feels, so maybe if we just try it, it’ll-”

“Steve,” Bucky said softly, cutting him off again, “Steve…think really hard before you answer this next question. Do you really, honestly feel that way about me?”

Steve closed his mouth and blinked. Did he? Well…no. Not really. Not right this moment. But maybe that was just because they hadn’t given it a chance. That’s what he’d been thinking, what he’d just argued…but then he tried to picture it. He tried to imagine kissing Bucky, coming home to him every night, even some magical world where they wouldn’t have to hide, where they could get married like everybody else…and he immediately crumpled, eyes dropping to the table as his resolve disappeared, leaving him drained and humiliated. “I'm…sorry…”

“Aw, come on, Steve, don’t be sorry,” Bucky said, standing and leaning over to give him a reassuring one-harmed hug, “I know you want to find your soulmate. So do I. But we have to just…wait our turns, you know?”

"Yeah…” Steve said quietly, nodding, "You’re right. I just…I don’t want to be alone.“

"Like I’m ever leaving you alone,” Bucky said, grinning as Steve finally looked at him again, “Look, I might not be what you want, but I’m not leaving you. Not ever. I’m with you, pal.”

“‘Till the end of the line,” Steve replied with a small smile, slowly cheering up Bucky sat back down and they turned to more pleasant topics.

By the time the food arrived, Bucky had cheered him up completely, the topic almost completely forgotten. So what if he never got a romantic soulmate? If he had Bucky with him, he could handle anything. And he’d never be alone.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

War came down on them all as fast as the last one, but it wasn’t until the bombing of Pearl Harbor that the country had started recruiting. And Steve was right at the head of the line, wanting nothing more than to be a soldier on the front, defending his country and leading them to victory.

Unfortunately, life hadn’t exactly dealt him the best hand for fighting. He was a fully grown man who could easily be mistaken for a teenager, as short and scrawny as ever, and with a list of medical issues a mile long to boot. No matter how many times he’d applied, illegally changing his information to get another chance, he was always written off without even an ounce of consideration.

Of course, Bucky had gotten a call to duty, and had gone off with 107th infantry. Steve noticed, when he did, the colors he picked for Bucky’s mark (and he was now more practiced picking them on his own, even if he couldn’t see them properly) shifted to muted olives and dull grays and deep browns. He’d never stopped changing the colors of the mark, cycling through colors depending on his mood, and he’d noticed himself slowly shifting to darker tones as the war loomed on the horizon, but the sudden shift made him wonder. Wonder what had changed, exactly, if it was him, or Bucky, or just the world in general.

But then he’d met Erskine, and got his one chance to join the army, and he was too busy to really think about soul mates and marks. The only time he spared a thought in that direction was when he thought about Peggy.

Peggy Carter was the most amazing woman he’d met by far, and he couldn’t get her out of his head. Smart, capable, funny when she wanted to be, and so unlike any woman he’d ever come in contact with before. He liked it, liked her, felt drawn to her from the start. And, by some miracle, she liked him too. Even before he’d gone through Project Rebirth, when he was the little guy no girl had ever given a second glance to, she seemed to actually see him.

And it became clear, pretty quickly, that she liked him as more than a friend. Even though she had a mark. He’d seen it once, a discreet little tattoo, unusual for a woman. And he still didn’t. It baffled him, why she would do that. Was it pity? Did she think he had a mark and she just hadn’t seen it?

Regardless, he knew he had to set the record straight. As he walked to the dining hall on a brief break between missions, he muttered absently to himself, practicing how he would break the news to Peggy that they couldn’t see each other. That they couldn’t have anything, and he wasn’t going to ruin her chances of meeting her soulmate. “Peggy, I like you a lot. You’re a great lady, and I’d love to be with you…but you need to keep yourself open for your soulmate and-”

“Now Steven, isn’t that my choice?” Peggy suddenly asked, arms crossed and an amused little smile playing on her lips as she watched Steve spin to face her with wide, nervous eyes, “I’d think you would know by now that I’m hardly the most traditional woman. I’m not sitting around waiting for my soulmate to show his face and let a perfectly wonderful man pass me by. Besides, who says I’m not your soulmate? What’s your mark?”

“Peggy it…it matters to me, alright? I don’t want you to miss out on finding your soulmate because-”

“What’s your mark?” she repeated firmly, making Steve freeze and swallow hard.

“I don’t have one,” he admitted softly, “That’s why I know we can’t…we can’t have anything and I don’t want you to miss out because of me-”

“Oh Steve…” she interrupted again softly, pressing a finger to his lips to stop him, “Hush. It may not be forever, then, but it’s worth a chance. You don’t have to be alone, you know.”

Steve blinked at her, utterly perplexed. “Why would you do that? You know I’m not the one…we shouldn’t be together if there’s no chance of us staying that way…”

“Who says there’s no chance?” she laughed, shaking her head, “Besides, we’re both available, or we will be when this is all over. Why not?”

She paused, sighing as Steve continued to look uncertain. “Honestly Steve, the marks…they’re not as reliable as people make them out to be. They’re just…supposed to lead the way. But even perfect soulmates can sometimes bring out the worst in each other. And sometimes people find soulmates they don’t ever have a mark for. The bond is there, and they know it is, that it’s right…but no mark. I’ve seen it happen.”

“I…did hear of that happening a few times…” he admitted hesitantly, “But that’s unusual, isn’t it? I’m not sure I want to risk-”

“That’s my decision to make, I think. And if, down the road, it doesn’t work out, then we can say it’s because we didn’t work. Not because we didn’t try,” she said firmly, voice soft as she looked pensive, “My parents met like that, you know. My mum had a mark for someone she was very close to, loved completely from what she told me, but then…he died suddenly, before they ever got a chance to be together. Then my father came along, helped her through it, and ended up asking her to marry him. They’ve always told to me that the marks and…following them was fine, but that they can’t replace true romance.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, his heart giving a flutter of hopeful excitement. Maybe, just maybe, this could actually happen. "I…always thought there was something wrong with me. Because I didn’t have a mark. I thought that I was just…never going to find someone. Ever.“

"Well, this…is extremely uncommon,” she admitted before shaking her head, “But it does happen. People just don’t like to talk about it, admit to something that breaks the supposed rules…maybe this is just what fate has in store for you.”

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest, hope bubbling up in him, probably faster than he should have let it. It was a relief, hearing her say all this. And, well, he’d been drawn to her since they’d met, what if that was a bond forming? What if they could have something after all? If she was willing to try, he definitely was.

“Are you sure about this, Peg?” he asked softly, “What if your mark shows up and you never meet him because of me? What if he’s better for you than I am?”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a moment before pulling away, a smile full of promise on her lips. “Some people are worth the risk.”

Steve fought the urge to whoop with triumph as he watched her walk away down the hall. He couldn’t help a grin, though, feeling lighter and more hopeful then he had ever been. He could see everything now, picture it so clearly it felt almost real already. They would win the war together, go home and get married, live next to Bucky and whatever girl he eventually settled down with. She could continue her career if she wanted while he helped with the kids, maybe worked on his art. He could picture the perfect little house they’d save up for, with a yard for the kids, Peggy laughing on his arm at some joke Bucky told.

It was incredible. The future was finally looking up, and it was brighter than it had ever been before.

His dream future shattered just weeks later, snatched from him in one terrible moment. Bucky died. He slipped from Steve’s fingers, and he could still see the moment he fell, the terror in his eyes. It played on a loop in his head, accompanied by a constant stream of 'your fault, all your fault, you could have saved him if you were just a little faster, just a littler stronger, just a little better…’

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At least it hadn’t been for nothing. They’d captured Zola, got Red Skull, even foiled his last plan. Or, at least, they would. When Steve redirected the plane. Manually. He felt a little numb as he took over the controls, calling Peggy and knowing this was goodbye.

As he’d gone down, listening to Peggy talking about a date they would never get to go on, his heart clenched painfully. Maybe this was why he’d never gotten a romantic mark. Maybe the universe had just known. Known he’d die young, known just how screwed up it would be to give him a mark. It made him want to laugh, bitter and pained. He should have known, shouldn’t he? The universe had just given him the one person he needed to cope for all those years, and nothing more. He’d had Bucky to get this far, and now he could die without leaving anyone behind. Not really. It’d be just fine.

Only it hadn’t ended there, had it? He’d woken up, Peggy’s tearful voice still ringing in his ears, only to find himself alone, nearly 70 years in the future. His friends were almost all dead, Peggy was heading toward the end of a long and eventful life, and the whole world had changed in the blink of an eye.

He thought that knowing the truth, instead of the make believe reality they tried to sell him when he woke up, would make him feel better, even if it still hurt. But it didn’t. He still felt wrong, disoriented, like nothing around him was real.

While on a particularly uneventful walk down the streets of New York, just walking around in a daze trying to make it all sink it, he walked past a tattoo shop and absently thought that maybe it was finally time to get Bucky’s mark permanently etched into his skin. He’d never really gotten the chance before, and, well…it would probably be a good tribute to his fallen friend, as painful and wrong it was to think of Bucky being gone.

He went in for information, and came out with an appointment and plans for two different tattoos. There was Bucky’s, of course, but then he’d spotted a man with lines of code twisting around his arm and for some reason felt he needed to have that himself. He didn’t understand the urge, but he didn’t fight it. Why bother? He had the money, and nothing better to do with it anymore.

He spent two days of drawing and re-drawing both tattoos, trying to get the designs perfect. Bucky’s took longest. Despite having the perfect shape memorized, and no longer having the same difficulty picking colors that he used to, none of his attempts felt right. Over and over he tried, until he was so frustrated he scribbled down a jagged, tear like star, and suddenly it felt right again. He continued that one carefully, adding the little planet and shifting the rings until it resembled a star, colored it bloody red and silvery grey. He didn’t understand it, why Bucky’s mark would change so drastically and so suddenly. Maybe there was just something wrong with him.

The binary was easier, but it still took time. He’d decided quickly how to place it, spiraling over his chest and around his heart, and he figured he’d just find something long enough and put it through the online translator the guy had suggested. But nothing he put through felt right. He tried over and over, every snippet of text he could think of on every subject, but…nothing. He even tried other languages, at least the ones he knew, but still he got nothing he liked. He ended up just picking sets of numbers at random, coming up with a long string of what was probably complete gibberish but felt strangely right. He decided not to question it. The whole code tattoo was weird to begin with.

When he stopped out of the tattoo shop, all work finally complete, he he looked around and felt like everything was finally settling into place. He still felt lost, out of place, but it felt real. It felt like something he could adapt to, if he tried. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and felt like he’d been rewritten. Turned into a new man. It felt odd, suddenly being OK after feeling so lost and confused, but he didn’t think about it too hard. He was going to make something out of this second shot at life, even if it killed him.


	2. Tony

Tony hated not having a mark.

He was already eight, not having a mark was weird. Everyone he knew his own age had started to draw their marks by now, and most of them had started two or three years ago. Some of them even had more than one already. Tony, though, only had one thing he wanted to draw all the time, and it couldn't be his mark. His dad said so.

His dad had always put a lot of stock in the marks. He'd told Tony over and over again about how everyone in their family had only ever gotten one mark, and how lucky they were to come from such a family. Most people would go around getting marks for just anybody, he said, but they saved themselves for one special person. They should be proud of that. Tony hadn't really heard anyone else saying stuff like that, and the kids at school didn't seem too impressed, but his dad was smart. He had to know what he was talking about.

Unfortunately that meant whenever he drew his not-mark on himself like the other kids, his dad wasn't as nice about it as their parents were.

"Son, the Stark family is a proud one," his dad said, scowling down at him and make him hunch up guiltily, "We can’t go getting all marked up with every bond we’ve got."

"But…what if I'm not sure who's my romantic one?" he asked hesitantly, voicing one of his many attempts to figure out what was wrong with him, "What if I have a bond with someone, and I don't get the mark because-"

"Don't be ridiculous," his dad replied, patting him on the head, "You'll know it when you get it. Now quit drawing shields on your arms. It's not your mark, and you shouldn’t be inking up your skin like that for no reason. Don't make me take away your pens again."

"But dad, I-"

"That’s it. Give me the pen, Tony."

He dropped his head, trembling a little as he dropped the pen into his father's outstretched hand. "Sorry..."

"Now go get that ink off your arms before your mother sees it," his dad said firmly, already turning away and sipping at his scotch.

Tony slunk back to his bedroom, trying not to cry as he trudged into the bathroom and scrubbed the ink off his arms. His dad would be angry if Tony cried over something so small, but he couldn't help it. It might not have been his mark, his dad had to know what he was talking about on that part, but he still felt so strongly about it. Without the drawing on him he felt so weird, like he was sick and lost and just wrong all at once. His dad just didn't get that part...

He quickly dried off his hands, swiping at his watery eyes as he went back into his room and found his tin of colored pencils. Maybe he could draw the shield some more, just on paper this time. His dad wouldn't be angry with that, would he? It was just a drawing. If he got it right this time, he could even keep it in his pocket or his backpack, and then he could stop feeling so weird without making his dad so angry.

He smiled a little at the thought as he grabbed a bunch of blank paper, and spread out over the floor. He focused hard on every movement, tongue sticking out without realizing it, as he carefully drew each line and circle then pulled back with a hopeful smile.

It didn't look even a little right.

Groaning and slumping in defeat, he wadded up the paper and tossed it over his shoulder, frowning in confusion when he didn't hear it fall to the floor. He scrambled to turn around, breaking into a huge grin when he saw the woman standing in his door and holding the paper ball.

"Aunt Peggy!" he exclaimed delightedly as he jumped up and practically flung himself at her, hugging her tight.

"Hello, my little darling," she replied with a fond smile and soft laugh, scooping him up and hugging him just as tightly, "Now, why are you so down?"

"I'm not down now," he replied firmly, barely holding back laughter, "I'm up."

"Oh, I see. It’s cheeky Tony day, hm?" she asked, grinning back as she set him down and promptly started to tickle him. Tony shouted at the merciless tickle attack, squealing with laughter as she got those little spots on his sides.

"Do you surrender, sir?" she asked a few moments later, relenting long enough to let him catch his breath.

"No!" he shouted back, still laughing as he scrambled away from her and across the room, diving for the homemade shield under his bed, "Captain America never surrenders! You surrender, Red Skull!"

"Oh I'll never give up! I'll never surrender this tickle war, not without a-" she suddenly clutched at her chest as Tony cut her off, pointing his hand at her and making his best gun noise.

"Curses! Foiled again by the great Captain America!" she gasped, crumpling in on herself as she fell to the ground.

"Haha! Got you!" he exclaimed, frowning when she didn't move at all, "Aunt Peggy?"

He paused, glancing at his hand in confusion, before inching toward her. "Aunt Peggy? It was just my hand... Wasn't even a toy gun..."

"Got you!" she grinned, lunging at him and tucking him against her chest while he laughed, "You feel better now, little one?"

"I guess," he replied as he calmed down, leaning on her shoulder, "My dad just keeps telling me to stop drawing the shield everywhere…"

"Shield? What shield?"

"This one," he said, holding up the shield on is arm and frowning at it, "The Captain America one..."

"Why would he stop you drawing that?"

"Dunno. I mean... It's sort of like my mark. Except it's not, because dad says that it can't be, and he doesn't want me drawing it anymore."

"Well, maybe it’s just because you’re not supposed to be drawing on yourself," she joked, chuckling and poking him in the ribs, making him giggle.

The laughter didn’t last, though, and in a moment he was frowning again. "I know, I just-" he sighed, fidgeting nervously for several moments before finally admitting, ”I don’t feel right if it’s not on me, you know? I just feel all... Squiggly inside. Like when I get sick, except worse because it's like I'm missing something, too. I hate it."

Peggy was silent for a long moment, and Tony was a little afraid he'd said something wrong without meaning to, but then she spoke again in a soft, gentle voice. "Well, that definitely sounds like a soulmate mark to me…"

"But it can’t be!" Tony exclaimed in frustration, waving his arms around wildly, "I mean…dad says it’s not! And he’s never ever ever wrong! He knows...and besides, who could it even be for? It’s not like it can be for Captain America 'cause he’s dead and-" he stopped suddenly, cutting himself off as he realized what he was saying, looking slightly frantic as he turned and clung to Peggy tightly, "I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say that!"

"It's alright, darling. It's alright..." she said gently, though she still looked a little sad. Tony opened his mouth to say so, and say he was sorry again, but she cut him off with a small smile. "Tony, I’m fine, really. But have you ever thought maybe this is your soulmate mark, and your soulmate is just as big a fan as you are?"

"I guess..." he said slowly, starting to smile just a little, hopeful at the thought, "You really think it is? I mean…it could be, right? Lots of people like him, right? He was awesome!"

"He was. He really was..." she agreed softly, getting that sad little smile she sometimes got when she was telling stories.

"Maybe that's what it is, then," he continued, brightening significantly, "It's not like it's just the shield, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" he started, hesitating as he looked up at her thoughtfully, "I mean…do you have time to help me? I'm not that good at drawing…Not like that anyway. I can't get it right..."

"Of course I have time for you," she chuckled, smiling, "I'm sure I can probably help you better than anyone. I know that shield like the back of my hand, I'm sure I can get it-"

"No no no!" he exclaimed, waving his hands frantically, "It’s not like that. It's like..."

He paused, frowning as he struggled to find the right words. There was something more to what he wanted, something he wasn't sure how to describe, and couldn't get himself even though he could draw every line perfect. It wasn't supposed to be perfect, it was supposed to be - He brightened after a moment, breaking into a grin as he thought of how to describe it. "Like the weird paintings the mamma has in the drawing room!"

Peggy just stared at him for a long moment with an odd look on her face, and Tony suddenly felt like he'd said something very wrong without realizing it. Before he could say anything, though, her look shifted to that sad smile again. "Well...alright. Let's try that, then."

"Really? It's not... Weird or anything?"

"Of course not," she replied gently, settling on the floor beside his stack of paper, "Come and sit, we'll work on it together. I'm not much of an artist myself, but I'm sure we can come up with something if we put our heads together. Then we can put it into your schoolbag and you can always have it with you."

Tony nodded slowly, flopping down next to her and getting to work. They worked together for a while, Peggy offering Tony suggestions as they drew, but as the minutes drew on Tony fell increasingly quiet, face twisting into a deep frown as he thought.

"Aunt Peggy?" he finally said, glancing up at her.

"Hm?"

"What happens if you don't ever get a soulmate mark?"

Peggy flinched at his question, staring at him with that odd look again and making Tony wonder why he kept saying the wrong thing, but it only lasted a moment before she shook it off. "Well…" she started, her voice cracking before she cleared her throat and continued, "I don't know. Everyone has at least one, as far as I know. Why do you ask, darling?"

Tony fidgeted for a moment before looking away. "I don't have one."

"You will," she insisted gently, "Just give it time..."

"But…everyone else already has theirs!" he exclaimed, turning back and nearly starting to cry, "What if there's something wrong with me and I never get a soulmate at all? What if I-"

Peggy set down her pencil and gently pulled the small, frantic boy against her. "Shh…it's alright darling. It'll happen. I promise. What about this shield? It sounds like a mark to me. You have nothing to fear…"

"But what if it's not?" he cried out, not able to stop himself from crying as he clung to her tightly, "Dad says it's not, and everyone has theirs already and what if I end up all alone forever? I'll never find anyone and I'll be all alone and... And what if I end up some icky old scientist in a dusty old lab coat with a million cats that nobody likes like that one teacher at school?!"

Peggy laughed at that, and he pouted miserably at her lack of concern about that horrible possibility, but he quickly calmed as she stroked his hair gently. "My dear little boy... You know, your soulmate might just be a lot younger than you are. And even if you never find one, guess what?"

"What?" he sniffled, wiping his eyes as she pulled him back, looking at her uncertainly.

"You will never be alone," she said firmly, smiling at him, "You will have your family, your friends, and all the other people that love you just as much as any soulmate ever could. Because you are an amazing person, and you are going to grow up to do wonderful things."

Tony stayed silent, not sure how much he believed her. After a moment, she just sighed, stroking his hair again as he smile fell.

"Steve...the Captain, I mean. He didn’t have a soulmate mark either, you know," she finally said softly.

Tony jerked back, staring at her with wide eyes. "He didn't?"

"No," she said with a brief chuckle, "But I loved him dearly anyway. Had to get that through his thick skull once. Do you want to know what I told him?"

"What?"

"That my parents didn't have marks, either. Not for each other, at least. My mother never got to be with her soulmate, and my father never even found his. But they found each other, and that's what matters. People can find love without the marks, even if people don't like to talk about it. It's just a picture meant to lead the way..." She paused, kissing his forehead, "Don't put so much stock in them, alright? Promise me that you will never lose your faith in love, mark or no."

"I…I promise," he said slowly, voice quiet, as he stared at her in surprise. After a moment she held out her hand solemnly, and Tony immediately nodded, putting on his most serious face as he wrapped his pinky around hers.

"Promise," he repeated firmly before smiling a little, “Still hope I get a mark, 'cause then I'll know for sure…but thanks. Sorry for making your shirt wet..."

"It's alright, my little one. Nothing to be sorry about. Now, let's finish this drawing so you can show me your other projects."

Tony nodded excitedly, immediately grinning at the prospect as Peggy ruffled his hair gently then picked up another sheet of paper. He was already feeling better about his mark now that they'd talked... Maybe she was right about the shield being his mark, and his future soulmate would just be a big fan of Captain America like he was. It seemed weird for his dad to be wrong about it, sure, and something didn't feel quite right about the thought, but he liked the idea anyway. It'd be something to bond over, wouldn't it?

He turned back to Peggy, grinning up at her before scrambling over and kissing her on the cheek. "Thanks, Aunt Peggy."

"You’re welcome, my little darling," she replied, kissing the top of his head before settling down to help him come up with the perfect drawing.

—————

Tony never really did get a mark. He watched for one almost desperately, searching every little mindless doodle for something, anything that repeated. But the only thing that did was the shield, and despite what Peggy had told him to cheer him up he knew that couldn’t be it. His dad kept telling him so, getting increasingly angry about it as he got older, and the whole fan idea had been silly to begin with. Marks were supposed to reflect something deeper than that, more personal. Besides, it didn't even help drawing the simple shape most of the time. It couldn't be it.

So when he went to school and the older boys started teasing him for being a silly fan boy, Tony started forcing himself to stop. It wasn't easy, he often found himself slipping up when he wasn't paying attention, but he got used to it. Slowly. Sort of. It was one less thing for people to make fun of him for, and one less thing for his father to be angry about, at least.

Though he still didn’t have a mark. He started to think something was wrong with him, that maybe he just wasn’t getting the compulsion strong enough. He started hoarding everything he'd ever drawn or written that he had the slightest inclination toward keeping on him, and as soon as he found some less scrupulous tattoo artists willing to ignore his age for a generous tip he got them, simple black ink slowly spreading over every inch of his skin. Well, every inch he could keep covered, anyway.

Which is exactly what led to him sprawled out one morning, groaning as he woke up with a killer hangover and an oddly aching back. He didn’t remember much about the night before, just a blur of alcohol and something about truth or dare. Raunchy truth or dare, at least to begin with. He couldn't remember anything after the first few rounds.

"Fuck…what the hell did we do last night…" he groaned at an equally hung over Rhodey waking up in the other bed. He was in bed, still clothed, and for some reason his back was killing him, prickling like a thousand bees were attacking the same spot on his spine. Why the hell did his back hurt? "Holy hell, what did I do to my back? Do I have road rash or something?"

"Dunno," Rhodey muttered as Tony rolled over with another groan, the man eying him before blurting out, "Did you get a tattoo last night?"

"What?"

"You've got a bandage. Lower back."

Tony made a face, pushing himself up and stumbling for the bathroom, contorting himself to get a glimpse of his lower back in the small mirror. Which was where the pain was emanating from. And was covered in a bandage. He peeled it off, eyeing the black lines with a frown.

"Man, did you get a tramp stamp of the Captain America shield?"

"Shut up," Tony replied, rolling his eyes. Why did he get this? The night before was definitely hazy, but he started to remember bits and pieces. Like someone daring him to get a tramp stamp. "It was a dare, I think…"

"You got a Cap shield tramp stamp on a dare?" Rhodey replied, clearly barely holding back laughter.

"Don't think I knew what else to get…" Tony muttered, vaguely remembering a seedy tattoo artist, an absurdly high tip to get him to ignore his age and intoxication, and defaulting to his old childhood doodle when asked what he wanted.

"Man, you are such a fan boy," Rhodey said, finally bursting out laughing.

"I am not," Tony replied, shooting him a glare. He refused to admit to getting slightly pouty, too.

"You always deny it, but come on," Rhodey shot back, gesturing to Tony’s back, "Your actions give you away."

"I’m not," Tony insisted, scowling, "You try listening to your dad talk about the guy like he was the most perfect being to walk the Earth. I've had to live up to that for years. Trust me, Rhodes, I'm not a fucking fan boy."

"Yeah, sure. Why else would you get it?"

"I don't know," Tony sighed, rolling his eyes and twisting around to try and see the tattoo again, "I used to draw it all over the place when I was a kid. Little obsessed with it. Guess I just…defaulted to that."

"All over the place?" Rhodey teased, "Sounds like a soulmate mark to me…"

"It isn't."

"Bet it is," Rhodey continued, completely ignoring the way Tony turned to glare at him again, "Bet your soulmate's as big a fan boy as you are…"

"I'm not a fan boy!"

"Yeah you are," Rhodey laughed, "I bet you and your soulmate are going to have a house full of memorabilia and everything. Name your babies after the guy…"

"I thought you said it would be a fan boy," Tony pointed out, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Adopted babies, then."

Tony couldn’t help snorting at that, though he quickly crossed his arms and shook his head to hide his amusement. "Not that I'm planning on having kids, but how exactly am I supposed to name them after Captain America? I'm not naming a kid Captain. That sounds like something you’d name your dog…"

"Steve?" Rhodey offered, "That was his name, right?"

Tony groaned, making a face. "No. Just no. Steve Stark? That has got to be the worst name I’ve ever heard."

They both laughed at that, calming down a minute later as Tony eyed himself in the mirror with a frown.

"It really does sound like a mark," Rhodey said softly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Looks like you've got one after all…"

Tony sighed, shaking his head. He’d confided in Rhodey about his situation not long after they met, after Rhodey complaining about only having a single romantic mark himself. It'd given them something to bond over, way back at the start. He knew he was just trying to be comforting, trying to be a good best friend, but he really didn’t want that right now. Not about this. "It can’t be. Who would it even refer to?"

"Like I said. Fan boy. Or girl, whatever."

"Haha. That doesn't make any sense and you know it."

"Look, I don’t know who it could be," Rhodey admitted softly, shrugging, "But you'll find out eventually, right?"

Tony just sighed again, eyeing the tattoo one more time before leaving to take care of both it and his hangover. It couldn't be a mark. It didn't even feel right when he looked at it.

He barely noticed how, after that, it got easier to stop himself from doodling the shield, only flaring up if he thought about his tattoo and how it didn't feel quite right. When he did, he just chalked it up to finally getting used to it. At least he wasn’t obsessing over it anymore, beyond a desire to get it done right eventually. Now he could finally actually focus on his search for his real mark. And the soulmate that had to be waiting for him somewhere.

—————

Nothing more really happened to him for years, at least not on the soulmate front. Tony continued to get tattoos, even as he got older and the itch to figure out his mark faded. If he was completely honest with himself, he knew getting the tattoos were a compulsion in themselves at this point. Every time he drew or wrote something that he had even the slightest desire to have on his skin, he went running to his favorite tattoo artist, who greeted him like an old friend. Which probably had a lot to do with the amount of money he gave the guy...

Then, finally, something happened.

Tony had gone to a nightclub, hoping to find someone to take home with him. An average night for him, in other words. He hadn't really expected anything finding more than yet another one night stand, just a little bit of comfort in his desperate search for his soulmate. Except then the girl he'd been flirting with turned out to actually be interesting. Smart, funny, charming. He'd dragged her off to the VIP section, barely even sipping at his drink as they enthusiastically discussed what seemed like every subject he loved. He was half sure he was in love already.

Didn't hurt that she was absolutely gorgeous, too. Tony's eyes drifted down the perfect column of her throat, thoughts drifting, until his eyes hit her necklace and said thought stopped dead in their tracks, his mouth suddenly going dry. He hadn't actually noticed the pendent before, with its odd, almost floral design. An extremely familiar design, actually. In fact, he was pretty sure it was almost exactly the same as a tattoo he'd gotten a few years back, a fragment of one of his plans he'd particularly liked the look of.

"That's…a very pretty necklace…" he finally said after several long moments of staring, his voice quiet and strained.

"Oh this?" she asked, touching the pendant with a bright smile, "Nice, isn't it? My best friend made it for me... Think she finally got fed up with all my complaining about not having a nice version of my soulmate mark. Never been that artistic..."

His heart skipped a beat and his mouth went completely dry, his brain tuning out everything except "soulmate mark." He couldn't believe it. His brain just couldn't process what was happening. If it was happening. It was happening, wasn't it? He couldn't think of any other reason she could possibly have the same mark...

After staring at her for such an uncomfortably long time that she fell silent and started giving him a look, he quickly shook himself out of his stupor and popped open a couple of button's on his shirt, jerking the collar down so she could see the nearly identical tattoo. "It matches mine…almost exactly…"

"What?" she asked, eyes going almost comically wide, "Isn't that…really rare? Matching marks?"

"Yeah," he said softly, nodding. Matching marks like that were exceedingly rare, near perfect ones like that even more so. It was almost unheard of for a single design to perfectly reflect both people. But it had happened before. It was possible. "But maybe…maybe it is? Do you want to go to dinner? Tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she replied almost before he'd gotten the question out, nodding eagerly, "I'd love to."

Tony immediately broke into a huge grin, an almost tangible wave of relief crashing through him as he impulsively leaned in and kissed her.

For the nearly the whole next year, Tony was completely happy, all thoughts of trying to find his soulmate gone from his mind. He had his soulmate, he was sure of it. He was in a fantastic relationship with a wonderful girl who he could truly share everything with. Every problem he had, every idea that crossed his mind became their conversations. Slowly he let her in to every part of his life, all the places he'd never let anyone into before. He loved her, more than he'd ever loved anyone in his life, and he wanted to show that to her. He wanted to show that to her for the rest of his life.

He decided to propose to her sometime around month number ten, and spent ages planning out every detail. It was going to be perfect. A private anniversary dinner (because that would make it more romantic, wouldn't it?) at a restaurant he would rent out just for the occasion, candlelight, music, the perfect ring. He could just picture her sitting there, looking perfect in that gorgeous dress he'd gotten her, and just waiting for him to ask her the question that would seal their bond forever. Just the thought made him simultaneously giddy and nervous.

Then the unthinkable happened. He came home one night, just a week before their anniversary, to find everything in his lab missing. Every note, every design, just... Gone. No mess or signs of break in. Which was impossible. His security was the best, he'd designed it himself, and he was the only one with the password. Well, now him and... He froze suddenly, then fumbled for his phone, dialing her number with shaking hands.

"Tony, what a pleasant surprise," she said, sounding entirely different from the girl he'd been dating for the past year, "Liked my handiwork, did you?"

"I...what?" he croaked, shocked. This... This couldn't be happening. There had to be some kind of explanation. "I don't get it. What's going on?"

"Oh God, don't be dense," she groaned at him, and he could practically hear her roll her eyes, "What does it look like?"

Tony swallowed hard. "But... Why? Why would you do that? We're soulmates. I thought-"

"What? That we'd work together? Shape the future? Live happily ever after side by side?" she asked mockingly, laughing like it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard, "As if. You know that article they did on you in the Times a few years back?"

"Yes…"

"They had a shot of your tat, you idiot. Not a good one, but do you really think people can't make out the design if it's not a clear photo? It wasn't even hard to figure out that was a weak spot! You set yourself up for this, Stark. And now everything you've created is mine. Consider it repayment for listening to your whining for a year. Ciao!"

The phone fell from his frozen fingers as she hung up on him, cracking as it hit the floor. He just stood there, too shocked to move, not even trying to stop the tears when they started rolling down his cheeks. It took him minutes before he was able to stagger over to a wall, slumping and sliding down it until he was crumpled on the floor, even longer before he could manage anything but gaping at thin air.

God, how could he have been so stupid? Allowing himself to get tricked like that, so easily, when he knew people would happily take advantage of him... It was those damn marks, he decided as he finally wiped viciously at his eyes. He'd been so desperate for one, so desperate for a soulmate, that he'd let it get the better of him. Well, fuck that. The marks didn't even make any damn sense. How did anyone know they weren't just deluding themselves with them? The soulmate thing was real, couldn't deny that with all the studies they'd done, but the only thing supporting the marks were the stories people told about getting the compulsion. Were they ever anything more than a fairytale?

No, he was done. Completely done with the marks. They didn't mean anything. There'd be no more tattoos for him, no more desperate searching, and no more opening himself to getting screwed over. He'd rather be alone then go through that again.

—————

“Oh come on, Pep. Why not?"

Pepper sighed, exasperated at Tony's latest attempt to get her to date him, leaning back in her chair and looking entirely at home behind her new desk even though she'd only been CEO for a few weeks now. Which was completely hot, really, and just another reason for Tony to try to get her to see where he was coming from. Again. She might have been annoyed by all his attempts, but until she flat out told him to stop asking he was going to keep trying, because Pepper was great. Funny and smart, and he swore she could read his mind, too. Not to mention she miraculously had the patience to put up with his shit, while still forcing him to not take it too far. She was perfect for him, and he knew they could make it work if she'd just give him the chance. If he could make it work with anyone, it would be her.

"Tony, please," she said, shaking her head at him, "You know it'd never work between us-"

"Well, we are technically soulmates."

"Not romantic ones. We're friends, good friends, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. We work like that."

"Pepper, come on, just give me a chance," he pleaded, leaning on her desk, "How do you even know it's not romantic? All the science points to there being no real difference between the bonds, just what people say they feel..."

"Exactly. It doesn't feel romantic at all, Tony."

Tony huffed and shook his head. "But-"

"Tony, what does this say?" she asked sharply, cutting him off with a frown and holding up her wrist. Looped around her slender arm was a thin silver bracelet, a tiny line of binary hidden in the design etched on its surface. A gift for her he'd had specially made ages ago, a permanent version of her mark for him.

"Ah, hell, Pepper, I don't remember,” he sighed, looking away from her with a growing frown. He knew where this was going. "Some quote you like..."

"Tony, please. You know exactly what it says. Even if you don't remember, I know you have that whole binary alphabet completely memorized for whatever reason-"

"I was bored in class once."

"So I know you can still read it," she continued like he hadn't said anything, giving him a look, "Now tell me what it says."

He sighed and shook his head, but finally relented. "Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find," he recited reluctantly, voice quiet, before he went right back to pleading, "But come on. We both know the marks are bullshit anyway."

Pepper stared at him, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "You know I don’t believe that. I know that you lost faith, but...” she sighed and shook her head. “Tony, just because one person hurt you doesn't mean-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, shouldn't give up, just keep looking, all that," he interrupted, cutting her off before this could get far more emotional than he was comfortable with, "Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. Look, we both know they don’t mean much, at least. People put too much stock in them when they’re just…guidelines. People find love all the time without them, I know they do, people just don't like talking about it because they're not as romantic and all that bullshit. I don't even have a mark, I have to do it on my own if I'm ever going to-"

He cut himself off, watching as Pepper’s gaze turned far more sympathetic than he'd have liked. God, he hated when he let that shit slip.

"I know there's someone out there for you," she said way too gently, though her lips were also lifting into a teasing little smile, "Someone who will love every single part of you. Even your hard-headedness."

"So basically, someone like you," he pointed out, ignoring her exasperated sigh, "Because so far, the only two people I've ever met who fit that description are you and Rhodey, who tragically does not swing my way. Come on, don't tell me you haven't ever thought about it..."

Pepper hesitated, a brief look flickering across her face telling him he was right, and he grinned triumphantly. "See? Maybe it only feels platonic to you because you've been too caught up in what the mark says. Maybe we just have to... Nudge it in that direction."

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing again, then slowly met his eyes. "Okay. Fine. We can try. But only if you promise me not to get too upset if we it doesn't work out. I really don't want to screw up our friendship because of this."

"No ruining. At all. Promise," he said quickly, standing up and rushing for the door with an excited grin, "I'll go make reservations at that place you like! Tonight!"

"Tony! I have work to do!"

"Then text me when you're free!"

Over the next few months, Tony spared no expense to keep Pepper happy and their relationship stable. Pepper kept telling him he was overdoing it, but he really didn't care. It was working. Sure, it was rocky sometimes, but they managed to make it work and he was finally actually happy again. For the first time in years, his future didn't feel like this bleak, lonely thing he could barely stand to think about. It was amazing.

He could even bear thinking about his tattoos again, his happiness easing the sting of what had happened. Not that he wanted to go back to his old habits, he still thought the marks were bullshit and he had no reason to start desperately looking again, but he stopped forcing himself not to think about them as much as possible. He could think about them enough to start drawing a new one, a silly little mark for Pepper he's completely made up himself.

It took a few attempts to get up his courage and actually step foot into the tattoo shop, but eventually he had an appointment for two tattoos. Pepper's new mark was the first, obviously, but he'd stumbled across those watercolor ones people did when he'd been looking for ideas and on a whim decided to add a splash of color to that old shield on his back. It had never felt right the way it was, anyway, and the watercolor felt appropriate in a way he couldn't explain. He paid an outrageous tip to make sure that particular tattoo was kept quiet, but it was worth it for the oddly settled feeling he had afterward. He was happy, finally, in a relatively stable relationship with someone he genuinely cared about and liked being with, and definitely wasn't screwing him over. Things were finally looking up for him.

He never noticed that he stopped doodling the shield, too caught up in is happiness to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! My co-author and I have been busy with school and work and it just took ages to get it written and edited. But we got it done and its great and we both hope very much that you enjoy it!
> 
> -Erin and Eurydice


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